Legion
by MarsDragon2
Summary: These are many, and these are one. A collection of small, short fics. May contain yaoi, het, all sorts of random crap. YOU DON'T KNOW!
1. Chapter 1

So, since apparently I have the attention span of a crack-addled weasel, I've been writing short stuff like this instead of working on Grace like I should. These are random, have no allegiance to any one game, and have no set formats. All characters and suchlike are Konami's, you know the drill.

First up are fics which I technically first wrote in Japanese because my teacher wanted us to write every day. They have been translated and cleaned up, but you still might find some awkward structures. This is my fault of translating too literally. Or maybe I just suck at writing. Anyway, first I jumped ahead in Grace. Enjoy the preview, as you'll probably never get to see it in the real fic.

---

Annette had been waiting. She said she would, and so that was all she did, for one whole year. For all of that year, she kept her hope alive, not daring to believe that Richter was gone, that he would come back, no matter where he had gone. Richter would come home. Surely.

Then, one day, her little sister came home. Maria had been out looking for Richter even since he had dissappered that cold night, certain she could find him again. So when Annette saw Maria coming up the road, she thought "She'll have brought him home. Waiting was right."

But Maria's face was sad, and her voice far away when she said "Richter...I'm sorry. Really, I'm sorry, sister."

Maria had done her best. Perhaps Richter just couldn't be saved. Absolutely couldn't be saved. And maybe, maybe...it was better that way.

A few days later, Maria had set out again. All she had said was "I want the truth.", and Annette couldn't stop her.

"Why?" Annette had asked her sister, not wanting to see her lost for no reason and sense as well. "You might also not come back. Please, don't go." But Maria had gone anyway. She was like that, running off to dangerous places like it was game, a game she had to win. Annette was different. Maria could go out to fight and defeat the darkness, and Annette would wait at home and pray. This...this was all she could do.

And she would do it as best she could.

---

# Pound signs mean comments. Death speaks all in caps because I read too much Terry Pratchett, and it's an easy way to never mistake him for anyone else.

Mathias didn't like the Grim Reaper, and both of them knew that. He hated God, but still the Reaper had been the hand that had taken away Elizabeta, even if he had not given the order. That was a fact.

But the Grim Reaper was all Mathias had left, and they both knew that as well. This was also a fact. Leon, Rinaldo, and Sara...everyone had been thrown away. The Church still wanted him back, but it would be a cold day in hell before Mathias ever walked into a Chapel again willingly, and he would know when hell went cold. So then, Death was the only one left. So, knowing this, Mathias began to teach Death chess, in an attempt to while away the long nights of immortality.

ONE MORE TIME. HOW DO THE KNIGHTS MOVE?

"Ah...like this. Jump and across...see?"

I SEE. I SHALL TRY TO REMEMBER NOW.

"Good." And for a moment, there was almost a smile.

---

"He's...a big guy.", Mina thought. "A little scary too." Soma and Arikado both had told her that Hammer was not a bad guy, and he wouldn't hurt her. But still...

"Oi, lady!"

"Ye...yes?" Oh, she had sounded too scared! Now he knew she was frightened of him, now what?

"Hey, hey, I'm not that scary, am I? I just wanted to know your name, not eat you all up." Hammer almost sounded friendly, but would it be too dangerous to tell him her real name?

"Mina. Hakuba Mina." Well, too late for it now. Habit had taken over before she could give it more of a cursory thought. She comforted herself with the knowlage that if Hammer was going to attack her or something, that he knew her name would make no difference. It was scarcely comforting in the least.

"That's a pretty name. So, Miss Hakuba, how'd you get yourself in a place like this?"

"Ah, Mina is fine." Maybe a bit too friendly, but he didn't seem like he was going to try anything, and maybe being friendly would help keep him that way. "Soma, you've met him, and I were at the Shrine when the eclipse happened, and then we were here. That's all I know."

"That's all /anyone/ knows. That was me too...doesn't seem fair, you know? Wish someone was around to help us out. Sure would be convenient, yeah?"

"Well, maybe Mr. Arikado and Miss Yoko..."

"With ya there...those two, they know more than they're telling. But they never tell the rest of us folks anything. Annoying, isn't it?"

"I don't know. I'm sure they have good reasons." After all, what other reason could there be? Though to be honest, it seemed like neither of them had ever really told her what they were doing at the Shrine...

"Hahahahah! You're a good little girl, looking out for your friends like that!"

Mina couldn't think of a thing to say to a weird thing like that. It sounded like some sort of bizarre compliment, though a little...old fashioned. She hadn't been called a "little girl" in /years, and she wasn't quite sure how to react. She was eighteen, after all. It didn't seem like Hammer had needed a reply, though, or maybe she had just waited too long, because after a few minutes he had turned around again and gone back to what he called a little shop. "But maybe..." she thought "Hammer isn't such a bad guy after all. He acted friendly enough, at least." And after that, the two waited in slightly more comfortable silence.

---

"Lydie."

The voice woke Lydie up from a deep sleep, blinking in confusion. It sounded like Maxim was outside. But Maxim had left two years before on a long trip. Was he really back?

"Is that really you, Maxim?"

"Yes, Lydie, it's really me. Look." Lydie ran over to the window and looked out. Just outside, in the garden, was what looked like Maxim, if he was a few years older.

"Maxim! I'm so glad to see you again. You left so long ago...why are you back? Are you hurt? Or did you just get lonely?" She asked while yawning. It was the middle of the night.

"No, no. I'm fine. I found what I was looking for so...I came back." He laughed and held out his hands, showing the simplicity of it all.

"Oh, really? That's good...but it's the middle of the night. Couldn't this wait until morning?" Lydie didn't really want to admit it, but she was a little worried. Maxim did like the night, and Lydie was well used to being woken up to go off on some adventure. Always Maxim was dragging Juste and her along off to some weird place, but it was usually fun. This...seemed off.

"Now, Lydie. I want to show you what I've found. Come on."

"Maxim? This isn't like you. Maybe...we should go get Juste as well, and we'll all go together? How's that?" Juste would know how to deal with this.

"Juste...maybe later. I want you be to the first too see this. Won't you come?"

Lydie thought. Maxim /looked/ all right, but he also seemed a little strange. Something not quite right she just couldn't put her finger on. Besides the sudden insistence that she come with him without Juste...usually they did everything together. But on the other hand, maybe Maxim just didn't want Juste coming along and showing off like he usually had done. Maxim had gone away for two years looking for whatever it was, after all. He had no way of knowing how much they had both grown. Lydie shook her head to clear it. It was only Maxim. They had been friends since childhood, why was she suddenly being so suspicious? Of course she would come along, and then they could run back and get Juste. "All right. I'll go get dressed, so give me a little time."

She didn't notice Maxim's odd smile in the darkness...

---

Hugh sat at the top of the tower waiting for Nathan. Just a little bit longer, and it would all be over, but waiting was so hard. He desperately wanted to just go and rescue his father and save him from that demon. But he knew, Nathan would arrive just in time to mess things up. Nathan had been doing that throughout the castle, always trying to be the better one. And his father had gone along with it, all throughout the training! He had always liked Nathan more. But Hugh was the better one, he always had been. Nathan had never been in the same league as him, always losing and falling behind, so they'd have to go over the same things over and over again... And even then, his father had given Nathan the whip and the succession, not him! Not his own son! Nathan wasn't a bad person...but it would be Hugh to get them out of this devil's castle, it would be Hugh who rescued his father, it would be Hugh who was the hero. And then...everything would be all right. He didn't want to kill Nathan, but if he insisted on being the way, well...hopefully that wouldn't happen. Sometimes people needed waking up, though. Heh. Nathan wouldn't be doing much waking if he kept on his path. And his father would understand. After Hugh was the hero who rescued all the world, it would all be all right, even without Nathan. His father would look at him. He would be noticed.

He would be praised.


	2. Chapter 2

Next up is drabbles. Or at least fics that are somewhat near 100 words, even if I hit that actual, fabled mark very rarely. Fun game! Try to pick which ones I didn't actually manage to pull it off in! No cheating!

---

His duty was to protect his child.

This was obvious. Even the lowest of animals protected their young.

And obviously cloistering the boy in the castle was a solution soon to fail. Eternity was long and the castle small.

So he needed to teach his son how to protect himself, so that when he was no longer around he wouldn't have to fear for the thought of the humans finding him and the hunters coming with their painful crosses and stakes.

But hunters would not give up easily, so killing was the only answer. He had learned this long ago.

Killing was hard. But it got easier the more you praticed and the younger you started, like all things.

His logic was perfect.

Still, Dracula couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness as he watched Adrian's small, too young hands close around the peasant's neck.

---

#OMG RONDO FIC IN ENGLISH

The zombies came and the doves ripped through them. She ran on, deeper into the castle. The knights with axes came and Quinglong destroyed them. She lept up stairs and across deep pits. The small ghosts that spun and danced in the air came and the metors burned them. She doged and slid and flipped. Camilla wept her bloody tears of fire and the alter-ego, the other that called the animals and brought power stabbed and stabbed until that vampire fell as well.

Maria kept moving. If she stopped she might hear the all too human screams that followed.

---

# This is Sara, at some unspecified point after LoI, and she is speaking/thinking about Mathas/Dracula. Gee, aren't all pronoun fics fun?

She hated him.

It was a constant, painful anger and hate that bled through her body (such as it was, now), pooling in her heart and cycling out again to engulf all of her and back again, an endless pulse of bitter rage against him for her being trapped here, for bringing everyone this pain, for the coldness she had felt then, for how he had sat there and promised he would help her escape, the treasonous two-faced bastard, for the loneliness, for the immobility here in the dark, for the lack of all senses, the lack of all feelings and sensations besides the constant pain and anger...and she knew he hated in the same way, and the knowledge that they were kin in this anger, fueled from the same source and it was all a matter of changing your viewpoint, that she was as base and heartless a murderer as him...that was the very worst thing of all.

---

One night, the little girl couldn't sleep. She had tossed and turned for hours, but nothing worked. She grew lonely in her bed, and finally that was enough to convince her to brave the midnight kitchen with it's unfamiliar lights and shadows. She went to the phone, and carefully looked up the phone number she wanted by the faint moonlight, of the man who was always awake. She slowly walked back to her room and buried under her blankets, dialed the number.

"Hello? Mr. Arikado?"

"Mina? Why aren't you in bed?"

"I can't sleep. Tell me a story."

"...All right. Once, a long, long time ago, in Europe, there lived two brave knights..."

---

#SLASH

He wasn't Lisa. He would never be Lisa.

He was strong and hard where Lisa had been delicate and soft, straight where she had curved, rough and scarred where she had been perfect and smooth. He smelt wrong as well, of red and gold, of battle, anger, and holy, when she had been of green and growing, of forests, joy, and light.

But Richter was warm and living, and that was all the really mattered; so after the passions were spent Dracula would try and look past all that and pretend it really was Lisa he held in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Random crap, written on a whim.

---

The four compatriots had been trudging though the mountain pass for what felt like and probably was hours before Trevor, who was in the lead, suddenly stopped. "Why," he asked, in the manner of one who has suddenly had a revelation, "are we doing this?"

The rest stared at the Belmont as if he had lost his mind. "...Because Dracula is evil? He destroyed all of our families and many others? He's killed and tortured and is planning to take over all of Christendom and turn it darkness and needs to be stopped?" Grant was finally the one to speak up and he spoke with careful gentleness as he did.

"No, no. I know that." Trevor turned around to face the rest. "Why are we doing it like /this, though? Tromping through rocks and swamps and fighting off monsters the whole way? Listen," he added before anyone else could speak up and say how this was the only way to do it, "I've got a better plan. Let's get back to the village with all the refugees."

-

"HEY!" The echos of the hunter's voice resounded around the large gathering of small huts and bedrolls. Several people came out to stare at the hunters. "I need a brave and kind maiden, filled with Christlike love! ...Preferably blonde and named a variant of Elizabeth!" The was a blank pause of disbelief from everyone around the Belmont.

"He...he /cannot/ be serious." Alucard said at last.

"I think he is." Sypha's voice was quiet, but filled with hopeless despair as to the state of their leaders sanity all the same.

No one came forward for a long while. Then, carefully, a young woman with blonde hair gently pushed her way though the crowd and stood shyly in front of the group of hunters. "I'm Beth. Did you need me for something?"

Trevor took careful hold of the young woman's shoulders ad stared her right in the eye. "Beth, are you prepared to go alone into darkness and find love and compassion for whatever you find there?" Trevor considered for a moment. "Or at least be able to fake it?" Sypha hid her face in her hands while Grant wore the nervous smile of one who knew he was doomed and Alucard made painful, choked gasps of anger.

"I...believe so, sir."

"Excellent! Come with us now, please." Trevor grinning, threw his arms around Beth's shoulders and marched off again to the great bulk the castle. His companions watched him go until they had managed to collect their wits enough to realize what they had just seen.

"TREVOR!"

-

"Trevor, this is not going to work. She is going to die. My father is not the sort to be taken in by this, you are sending this young woman to her DEATH, Trevor are you listening to me?"

"Alucard, shut up. This is going to work. You were telling me how it did before!" The group crouched behind some of the ornamental shrubbery around the castle's front gate, keeping careful eyes on Beth, who had gotten through the watchguard on the door and was waiting for Dracula to show up.

"Both of you, quiet. He's here." Sypha was the only one really watching. Grant was too busy making sure Alucard and Trevor didn't rip each other's throats out. All the same, they all turned to watch as Dracula appeared at the gate, Beth started saying something they were too far away to hear and...

"Oh lord, she's going to die."

"Shut UP!"

...Dracula swept her into his arms and the castle.

"YES!"

"FA-THEEEER!"

-

The Drum was usually a quiet place, filled with people who had lost too much to the reign of terror that had recently held sway over the countryside. It was not very quiet as Trevor made his way on the fifth circuit of his victory dance around the room. The others sat at the bar. "...Think of it this way," Sypha said, still keeping her eyes on Trevor, who had somehow made it up on the tables and was doing a jig, "it DID work."

"Father have you no shame?" Alucard was considerably less upright than he had been when the four had come in a few hours ago and was working on making it worse. "No shame at all?" Grant gave him a long, pitying look before clapping him on the shoulder and getting a few words in before another round of Trevor's mostly made up on the spot song about the great vampire hunter who had defeated Dracula started up again.

"Have another drink."

---

Clytemnestra stood nervously in the back of the great hall, clutching her broomstick. No one knew what the Master was planning to announce, but it was big, and that was never a good thing. She twisted a small lock of red hair around her finger and looked around. The hall was nearly full, filled with at least one of every monster in the castle. One of the Axe Armours was standing a little too close to her, and she moved away. No witch would be caught dead next to an armour after that incident. Clytemnestra considered getting up on her broomstick to see if anything was happening yet, but -

"Climmie!" A sudden pair of arms wrapped around her and hugged tightly. Despite her first shock, Clytemnestra breathed a sigh of relief. Her friend wasn't late this time. She turned around to talk with the other.

"Agathea, I'm glad you're here - /what is that you're wearing/"

"I told you not to call me Agathea, it's -"

"Nevermind that! Do you realize that this is formal? The Master is going to be here, and all the top of the ranks! You can't wear that!" Clytemnestra mentally winced at her friend's brainlessness. It was cute, but she was /such/ a fad follower... "Ionia. Ionia will know what to do." Clytemnestra spoke desperately as she began to drag Agathea in a likely direction. Luckily, the older witch wasn't far away and Clytemnestra got there in short order, trying to explain. "It's Agathea...miss." Ionia was only a /little/ older. "Look!"

"It's NOT Agathea!" Agathea's voice was rising, trying to be heard over all the milling denizens of the castle. "It's PAM!"

Right then the hall suddenly quieted for the entering of the ranks and Agathea/Pam's words echoed painfully loud in the silence. Everyone was staring, and Clytemnestra felt as if she might as well fall down and die right there. There was no way it could get worse than this.

Unless the Headmistress has recognized the voice and started plowing down through the assembled monsters right to where they were. And so much for solidary in the ranks, Clymestra thought miserably, watching all the witches and sprites and fleamen and all the rest clear a wide path for Headmistress to walk down. The lady did not look happy and there was the Great Armour right behind her, oh she'd be blamed for all of this, she was certain, and, and...and the Master was right behind them, looking at them exposed in their embarrassment. The Master himself. She'd /never/ recover from this. Never ever in a million years.

Still, she stood by her friend waiting their fate. Agathea might be faddish, but she was Clytemnestra's best friend, silly name, white Mary Janes, pigtails, yellow sundress and all.

---

#This takes place about 20 years before LoI, features a couple of much younger protagonists, and was written long before I knew Leon was a good ten years younger than Mathias. Dammit.

"Ssshhh"

"I'm being quiet."

"Three...four...this one. You have the key, right?"

"Here. And...there."

"It's a little eerie at night, isn't it?"

"You'd like it, then. There's the practice swords, and the flails...have at you!"

"Ah! Don't slash at the hand with the candle, do you want to be blinded? And besides...I'll never give in to a Frenchman!"

"Ha! One Frenchman is worth ten Germans!"

"The fact that we are both speaking German and were born within the bounds of the empire have no effect on this ratio?"

"Bah. I may have been born here, but within me is the blood of generations of Gauls! And you called me a Frenchman first."

"True. But come on, we didn't come here in the middle of the night to play with the practice swords."

"I know...look! Sir Charles' axe! I bet I can reach it...almost..."

"Wait, that's really heavy...I think you should get down from there, Leon..."

"Got it! Waagh! Oww."

"Bit of a fall, eh? Did you see where it landed, Mathias? ...Mathias what happened to your arm!"

"It's not that bad, it just glanced off a little...aggh. Look, we've got to get that thing back up to where it was."

"Are you crazy? You're bleeding all over!"

"It'll be...fine, especially if they don't catch us. Come on, help me with this."

"No. We are getting out of here and seeing to your arm. Now."

"If we tell them, that destroys the entire principle of - put me down. Down! Ah!"

"No, I am /not, so hold still"

"...Now I've dropped the candle. I...aggh...hope you know where you're going."

"I do. There. Lord Cronqvist! Lord Cronqvist!"

"Ow! On my...we didn't do anything...swear."

"What are you two doing here in the middle of the night! Well?"

"Mathias...arm..."

"Not bleeding in the slightest. At all. Really."

"...Let me see. Oh for - dear! Get the bandages!"

"I'm fine...and I think I can walk..."

"Go with your mother, and don't make any more trouble. Didn't think I'd need to set it on so soon... And Leon? I'd ask what you two were getting up to, but I think I can guess. You'll see me in the morning. Off to bed."

"Mathias, will he -"

"He'll be fine. Bed."

"Yes sir."

"...And as for you, young man, I'm afraid I'm going to have to curse you with the ancient curse of our lineage now."

"Really?"

"You certainly perked up fast."

"Mother's good with potions. Curse?"

"All right. Upon you, Mathias Cronqvist, I lay the most ancient curse of our lineage. May you have children as clever as you are!"

"...That's it? And I thought the most ancient one was knowledge."

"It's hard to tell. And believe me, it comes through in the end. May it be the worst you ever receive. Now off to bed with you, too. See me in the morning."

"Fine. Good night, Father, Mother."

-

"It's a lovely morning, isn't it boys?"

"Yes sir." "Yes Father."

"The air is clean, the sky is bright, the fields are green for a good harvest... Now explain to me what in the blazes you two were doing in the armoury last night!"

"Well, ah, we had heard that since -"

"It was all my idea, and I'm sorry, Lord Cronqvist."

"...I had a brilliant cover story."

"It wouldn't have worked, let me assure you. May I assume you just snuck in there in ah, youthful high spirits, foolishly ignoring express orders?"

"Well...yes."

"Good to see you're telling the truth now. One of you go find a stick."

"Hey now, Lord. I think they've learnt their lesson, haven't you, boys?"

"Sir Charles, this is not your affair."

"It was my axe I had to pick up off the floor just now, and I believe it's the same one that took a good chunk out of your son's arm, yes?"

"(It just glanced. Leon was making a big fuss over nothing.)"

"(What? Did you see the blood this morning? It was everywhere!)"

"My son. And my guest, you missed him. And that is precisely the point. Mine."

"Oh come on. Like you never tried to sneak around at night. I knew your father, and he could tell some stories! We've all turned out all right, despite any youthful transgressions."

"Yes, and maybe getting caught taught me a few things."

"(Like not getting caught.)"

"(Mind your tongue, we could be saved here!)"

"Maybe, maybe not. I think they've done enough to know not to do things like that again anytime soon, right boys?"

"Yes sir." "Yes sir"

"Ha! Leon, come down to the practice field with me sometime, I'll teach you how to use that axe properly! Here's a bit of pre-advice, though. You hit your enemies, not your friends, got it?"

"Yes sir."

"...There he goes, and don't think I'll listen to him. One of you go find a stick."

-

"Hey, Leon. Wake up."

"Unnh? Wha?"

"Wake up."

"No, Mathias."

"We'll be fine!"

"We just got caught a few days ago! You've still got your arm in bandages! Shouldn't we avoid doing that sort of thing for awhile?"

"Ah, but this is completely different. That was the armoury. /This/ is the kitchens."

-

A few centuries later...

"Adrian, how the hell did you set yourself on fire! Get away from there!"

"I was just trying to..."

"Just go to your room. I'll be along shortly. Go. And don't make any more trouble."

---

The dye was messy and had gotten all over the sink, counter, and bath, but it was in. He rather regretted not being able to see the results in the mirror, but it seemed to have taken all right. One of his shirts, alas, was completely ruined, but it was all right. Tradeoff for not quite standing out so much in Japan. The unnaturally pale skin didn't help, but at least you couldn't tell from the back. Much.

LET ME SEE.

"It's odd. I don't think I've ever had dark hair."

A MOMENT.

"Hm?"

And then quite suddenly he nearly tripped under the sudden weight of a heavy, felt like fur-lined, cloak on his back. It smelt almost familiar, but not, as if someone very close to him had changed in some fundamental way...

THE VERY IMAGE.

"Of what?" He had his balance back now, and had managed to get the cloak properly around his shoulders. The fur turned out to be white, and he was quietly glad that his hair had dried first.

OF YOUR FATHER, WHEN HE WAS YOUNG. THE VERY IMAGE.

The skeletal fingers brushed a bit of his hair away from his face and Arikado recognized that hauntingly half-familiar scent at last.

---

Death had heard nothing from the small room in the back of the catacombs for nearly an hour, no painful sobs, no bitter words of misery, and so decided it was safe enough to check up on his friend and master and the child. The room was dark and the heavy smell of burned flesh still hung in the unmoving air. It came from the long coffin standing alone at the top of the room and the two silent figures on the floor at the other end, both with their own coating of ash. The child was curled up partway in his father's lap, with the vampire's hand resting dully on his hair. At first it looked like both had at last fallen asleep out of exhaustion, but as the reaper moved slightly closer he saw that Dracula's eyes were open, if unseeing. Death leaned down to speak with his friend, speaking as low as he was able. DRACULA?

It took a few moments for the vampire to respond, slowly raising his head to look at the reaper with eyes that took a few moments to focus, as if he was focused on things too far past this world. When he did become obviously aware of Death's presence the expression didn't change so much as sharpen. He gently lifted his son off of his lap and wrapped the boy in his dark cape before standing up and turning to the patient Death. He spoke, then, and the words held no interest. "Follow me."

At that Dracula turned and strode out of the room, Death following behind silently. They made their way up through to the main castle and out the gates, a reversed reprisal of the funeral procession that had gone before. It took until they were outside the gates and well into the surrounding forest before Dracula stopped in a small clearing on the little-used path to the castle. There they waited in silence for several minutes before Death thought it wise to inquire as to why they were here. WAS THERE SOMETHING YOU WANTED?

"...Yes." The voice was faint, but steady. The next came in a near incoherent scream of rage "I want my wife back, you - !" He didn't bother to - or couldn't - finish before spinning around and leaping at Death with a sudden tackle that shoved them both back and nearly over and onto the ground. "Again! Again you do this to me! How could you? We've been together for centuries now, and..." Again the sentence went unfinished as Dracula gave himself over to the more important task of trying to hit his long-time friend and confident as hard and as many times as possible. Death tried to shove the vampire away, his scythe dropped in the frenzy, skeletal hands fighting against their barely more fleshed counterparts. For a moment the reaper got the advantage and forced Dracula back a few steps, but the vampire regained himself and came back, viciously thrusting his shoulder into Death's ribcage and knocking the reaper over unto the dirt. He wasted no time in jumping on top of Death and driving his fists into the skull beneath him. "You know I loved her, and it was right and good and it was all right. We were happy together, do you understand? We were happy! I trusted you, and, and so did she! Did she say anything about that? Before the end? Or did you even let her?" By now the vampire's knuckles were bruised and bleeding from the repeated pounding into the hard bone, and Death rather fancied his jaw was broken, among other things. Dracula paused, panting, almost too angry to move, and Death took the opportunity to fling the vampire off of him. The reaper was somewhat aware of the body hitting the ground a small distance away, he hadn't pushed that hard, but concentrated on getting to his fallen scythe. He managed to barely grab it off the ground and bring it up before Dracula was on him again. Death was almost tempted to let the vampire exhaust himself trying to beat Death to death, he couldn't really die as long as the vampire survived anyway, but rationally considering the option and actually staring at the crazed golden eyes in front him were two different things. So instead he spun the scythe around, giving Dracula a good crack to the ribs with the handle and giving himself some space. Before the vampire could regain his balance the reaper shoved the top into his midsection, pushing the vampire over to roll down the incline a few feet before stopping and lying there, not seeming to want to get up again anymore.

Death watched the heap of vampire with caution, but when Dracula finally pulled himself to his feet, more painfully than his injuries would seem to account for, he seemed more interested in staring out to the five villages around the castle and the large plume of smoke that had once been among that number. For a moment, Death wondered as to how best to explain that he didn't kill people, he just let their souls go to wherever they went, that letting even one person live could upset the entire universe, that even if he had saved her reality would always assert itself in the end, that she had smiled and told him it was quite all right. Somehow, the reaper knew Dracula would listen to none of it and believe less.

"Death..." The blows or the fall seemed to have shaken Dracula out of his rage, and now his voice was back to the quiet, mournful tone it had been before. "What do I do now? Now that she's gone..."

RAISE THE CHILD? Death wasn't even quite sure what his friend was asking, but it seemed to be a safe enough answer.

"Yes...yes, of course." The answer seemed to have satisfied after all, but the odd fascinated tone in the vampire's voice almost made Death wish for the blazing fury again. "So that nothing like this will ever happen again, so He and they can't take anything more...raise him safe."

He turned around to go back to the castle again, and even Death had to admit something like uneasiness with the new glow in Dracula's eyes.

---

The young alchemist stood awkwardly by the horse as the older knight saddled it up and attached the few bags of supplies. The knight looked like he was finished with his preparations, and the alchemist thought that now was the time to ask the question that had been plaguing him ever since he was dragged out of his heretic's cell in the middle of the night. "Excuse me, sir, but...why? Why are you helping me escape?"

There was a long pause, and finally the knight spoke, his words quiet and far away. "Once, long ago, I had a friend. He was like you, an alchemist. Sometimes he seemed troubled by things he couldn't name, and refused to speak to me about them. He couldn't trust me to not betray him." The knight's hand tightened on the reins, and for a moment he looked pained. "There was...trouble later. After, I wondered if I had known about him earlier, if I couldn't have helped to avoid it, if I had known, if he had really been willing to trust me that much." He turned them, facing the young man with an expression of quiet desperation and determination.

"That's why. I want to prove that he could've trusted me. That I wouldn't have betrayed him, and I would've stood by him, even if all the Church...all the /world, turned against him. I would've..." and the man's voice faded as he turned back to the horse "...stood by him, no matter what."


End file.
